Expectation
by isumi 'kivic
Summary: Sometimes, Tezuka gets exhausted of people’s expectations too. Tezuka/Fuji.


Title: Expectation, a Tennis no Oujisama Ficlet

Title: Expectation, a Tennis no Oujisama Ficlet

Author: isumi'kivic'

Beta: The mighty speadee-sama!!

Pairings: The epitome of kawaii-ness, TezukaFuji, the Perfect Pair ever.

Genre: Angsty-fluff.. sorta.

Warnings: Standards warnings, shounen-ai, OOC, blah blah. And please don't ask why.

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing from Tennis no Oujisama, and Tezuka and Fuji owns each other. That's a fact.

A/N: My belated birthday present for our stoic buchou. hides. Sorry for being very, very late! Kindly blame the writer's block and my dorm's rule for not allowing me bringing my laptop, please? XP

A HUUUGGGEE mountains of 'thank you's for speadee-sama!! I'm so sorry for asking you very suddenly, ne? Thank you so much!!

Anyways, Happy Belated Birthday, Tezuka. May you be blessed always with the shining rays of Fuji's affections—and vice versa. XD XD

(This is **vierblith** posting **isumi's** fic for her since she has a slow connection. This is, I believe, for **nhowy** as well who needs to come back to the path of righteousness.)

_**A Tennis no Oujisama Fanfiction**_

_**Expectations**_

Maybe not even the most dedicated admirer of Tezuka Kunimitsu in Seigaku would think that the nearly-perfect, stoic captain of Seigaku Tennis Club could ever get tired.

No, no, it wasn't that he was tired of having uncountable things or errands to do everyday. Hell, he had been very used to those exhausting tasks that he no longer felt tired after doing them. Actually, he did most of them because he wanted to, or because it was his job.

But sometimes, Tezuka got exhausted of people's expectations.

Sure, Tezuka would do his best on everything, but that didn't mean he wouldn't get tired of what people expect him to do—to be. Sometimes people expected higher from him than what he had targeted for himself, and being Tezuka Kunimitsu, he couldn't refuse to try reaching those people's expectations, because he hated to disappoint those who look up to him.

His teachers and classmates always expected him to be the best in classes—getting straight tens, respecting teachers and correcting their mistakes, helping his friends with homework and assignments, doing everything perfectly—that he sometimes wondered if his teachers forgot that he was only a 12-year-old teenager, who still needed to learn about many things, because they seemed to be treating him as an adult—a perfect adult. They also expected him to make everything perfect because he was the president of the student council—perfectly held cultural events, perfectly organized extracurricular and club activities, and perfect school life—and to be a role model of a perfect student—perfect attendance, perfect (and proper) attitudes, and perfect school reports—and Tezuka would always try to meet those expectations.

He even had more expectations from those around him. Ryuuzaki-sensei expected him to be a perfect tennis club captain for Seigaku. Well, at least he had to try being like Yamato-buchou—"I'd expect no less from someone like you, Tezuka. Congratulations," she said when he finally succeeded in bringing Seigaku to win the Nationals—while his teammates expected him to be the example of a perfect and invincible tennis player—"Sugoi, nyan!! As expected as Tezuka!"—and his rivals expected him to be the most thrilling and challenging opponent to defeat—"Ore-sama would never look down on you, Tezuka." With that, the stoic teenager tried to become stronger and stronger, because he knew he had to for the sake of himself, Seigaku, and everyone.

Back home, his grandfather would expect no less than a strong, composed grandson who could handle everything cool-headedly while his father would only ask for a son he could be proud of. And it would be one of Tezuka's utmost happiness to comply to what both of them wanted.

But after so many expectations he was supposed to meet, no one could blame him for getting tired of them, right?

Right.

However, if he failed to be perfect, or to do something perfectly, questions of why, how, is-there-anything-wrong, what's-wrong, and many, many others along those lines would burn his ears, as if they were reminders of his failure, though it was just a tiny, small hole in his supposedly perfect tasks and roles.

In times like these, he would find a place where he could be alone to contemplate the slightest mistake he might have made. But a certain someone—whom, for Tezuka, was an angel, really—would always find him.

Then Fuji—and only Fuji—would reach for his hand and clasp it in his smaller ones—warm and loving—and lean in towards his ear and whisper, "You're only human."

And he would place a loving kiss on Tezuka's chin, pulling him into a loose embrace—warm, caring, calming, and loving—and Tezuka would always be the one to embrace him tighter. Then Fuji would repeat the same mantra, once, twice, or thrice, and the bespectacled teen would tighten the embrace, as if trying to mold their bodies—if possible, also feelings, thoughts, and souls—into one, each time the mantra was repeated.

"You're only human."

Fuji never, ever expect something from Tezuka, and that reminded Tezuka of his caring, beloved mother, Ayana, who always accepted him the way he was without expecting anything from him.

He could always read the same words shining in their eyes—his mother's warm, brown ones and Fuji's enchanting, sharp cerulean ones—the very same words that never changed since the first time he saw them.

_We love you simply because you exist. Because it's you, and nothing else matters._

But his mother's love was always so different from Fuji's.

Ayana's love was always gentle, accepting, soft, and very careful. Sometimes, the captain of Seigaku did feel awkward to receive soft, loving pecks on his cheek from her but still, they were warm—the special kind of warmth only Ayana could provide. But it was Ayana's—his mother's only—and he loved it.

However, Fuji's love gave him something more. Sure, like Ayana's, Fuji's love was always gentle, accepting, and caring, sometimes very subtle, and yet he could feel it deep inside his heart. Then again, it could be very aggressive: fiery, raw, and very challenging without expecting. It's Fuji's—and only Fuji's—that could draw the same, equal response and love from him, and he would gladly comply to the challenge, silently vowing that he would always meet up to Fuji's expectations—if there was one, that is.

In the honey brown-haired teen's arms, under the spell, the stoic teen could be rest assured from his perfect roles and people's high expectations.

"You're only human."

The cerulean-eyed teen never expected anything from Tezuka, and the captain knew he could always expect that much from Fuji.

-FINITO-

A/N: dies I'm tired!! I even borrowed the librarian's computer only to type this.. and I was wondering if this fic is even proper. Drop a comment, please?


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